Pressure
by aurimaedre
Summary: Sherlock is having trouble with a machine and Molly comes to the rescue. Grad School AU


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot :)**

**So after it was stated that Sherlock was a graduate chemist this happened. This is one of my shorter fics, but I am thinking about writing a second part to it. **

(AN: HPLC- High Pressure Liquid Chromatography)

Sherlock straightened up with a frustrated growl and threw the small wrench at the wall with a force that showed how much he wished he could take a hammer to the machine sitting in front of him.

"Bloody contraption!" He swore fiercely and loudly in the small, empty room, causing a reverberating echo to make his words amplify around him. "Waste of money. Keeps breaking… Utterly. Useless." He muttered, flopping down in the chair provided.

In the midst of his muttering he heard a small, soft knock on the cracked door before it opened all the way gently. "Is everything okay, Sherlock? I was heading to get ice when I heard you curse."

Sherlock relaxed in his chair; glad that it was Molly who heard him and not some pathetic, lowly undergrad that would attempt to suck up to him, or worse… hit on him. No, Molly was useful and one of his few good friends at this insipid university. It may be one of the best science schools but obviously they couldn't order a working machine to save their life.

"It's this bloody HPLC! Fifth time it's broken this month. Useless! Probably because some ignorant undergraduate thought they knew what they were doing. Pathetic. You think one of them breaking a tube inside the NMR should have spoken of their collective ignorance, but no." Sherlock ranted as Molly calmly walked over and grabbed the wrench to hand back to him.

"My experiments are time sensitive! And now because of this waste of plastic and wires I have lost 6 hours of work thus far and will lose twenty-four more by the end of it! And that is only if I get the blasted thing working again. If I don't we are talking days! Days, Molly! Days where I sit at my desk answering students lab questions with nothing to stimulate my brain! I will go mad!" He finished in a huff, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well, I hardly doubt any of your students will come by, Sherlock. They haven't yet and they won't because they hear stories of your reputation, Sherlock." Molly reasoned dryly. Sherlock gave her a look that told her he didn't find her jab amusing at all. "And if we can't fix it then you will do like you did the last four times this month; which is come and invade my lab space and run additional experiments."

"I don't like going to your lab. I mean, you are pleasant to be around… Your adviser, however, is the biggest imbecile on the planet and he smells like smoke. Doesn't help recovery, now does it." Sherlock pouted and he pulled up his sleeve to show her two round patches.

"He's a Nobel Laureate!"

"As if that is any measure of true intelligence. He stole one of his undergraduates lab work for his submission."

Molly shook her head, letting the subject effectively drop. She had heard this argument one to many times now, "What seems to be the problem?"

Molly leaned closer to the machine for a look, "Nothing is showing up where it is supposed to, obviously."

"Now don't get snippy with me Sherlock. I am trying to help." Molly chastised. "Have you checked the line?"

Sherlock huffed and threw up his hands, "Of course I checked the lines. That was the first thing I did. There are no bends or bubbles. And before you ask another asinine question, I also checked the liquid levels."

Molly gave him a look that said he was trying her patience. "Did you talk to anyone in your lab? Maybe they had the same problem or know what is going on?" She asked as she bent over the machine to look at the back panel. The brief notion of how nicely her backside was framed by her lab coat was not lost on Sherlock. It was also a thought that had been creeping into his mind more than once lately. He didn't like it. It distracted him at the rudest of times… Like in the middle of seminars, teaching his class of apes, or now, when he needed to get the machine working.

"I briskly asked the post doc but he was of no use to me. He said to just clean it out… Idiocy." Sherlock leaned forward, his curiosity getting the best of him as well as needing a distraction from staring at her assets… her pleasant, perky, perfectly round assets.

It didn't help.

Instead, he was now focused on her hair and scent thanks to his close proximity to her. She smelled like lavender, sandlewood mixed with floral notes and musk, and… raspberry champagne?That never factored into his fantasies and he had her unique scent memorized. It was the above notes interwoven with the smells of various organic compounds. He assumed she had changed body washes from the way the scent clung to her soft skin and made a quick note of the added scent.

"Sherlock?" Her worried voice broke his out of his cataloguing.

"Yes?"

"I've been saying your name for the past minute and a half."

"I was absorbed in my thoughts. They are quite important, as you well know." He replied, hoping to end her line of questioning.

Molly sighed in frustration, "I asked if you had checked the column."

"Of course, it was changed just last week after someone thought it was a brilliant idea to put something on there that destroyed it in one run. They should have known better."

Molly thought for a few moments. She drew her teeth into her mouth and gently started nibbling her lower lip in concentration, causing her lip to plump and flush a beautiful deep red color. It was the color of someone that had been freshly snogged; or if Sherlock had his way that is why her lips would be plumped up and red. He shifted again in his chair and tried to look away, desperate to clear his head of primal desires he long since locked away. But all he could think about was pulling her down into her lap and his teeth being the ones that nibbled on her lips.

He was shaken from this thought when he saw Molly light up. "Did you check the guard column?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. This was her brilliant plan? "They would have changed it when they changed the column. Everyone knows that when the column gets destroyed they have to change both."

Molly smirked as a hint of mischief gleamed in her eyes, "Yes, but did you change the column?"

"Well…. No."

"Exactly, Sherlock. I bet you dinner that if you replace that column everything will begin working again."

Sherlock stood up and skeptically changed out the column. He worked quietly and efficiently while Molly stood beside him watching his every move with a look that was verging on smart-aleck pride. He didn't want to admit it, but seeing her so confident, cocky, and slightly sassy was a major turn on. It was a turn on that he didn't need to add to his ever growing list.

He turned to the machine and began the program anew. He and Molly stood side by side as they fixed their eyes on the computer screen.

"Well the dead time is correct." Molly muttered almost to herself.

They had to wait five more minutes before the first peak was due to appear and Sherlock found himself glancing over at her one to many times. "Is something wrong?" Molly asked in that sweet, caring tone of hers.

Sherlock deflected, "I am just thinking, if you win does this mean I have to take you to dinner?"

The infernal cat-got-the-canary look showed back up in her expression, "Yup." Her voice was syrup, drawing out the single-syllable word as long as possible. "And it has to be outside of school property, no getting around the deal by bring chips to my lab."

"What a masterful deception you have weaved Miss Hooper." He said dryly and fought back a grin when Molly looked smugly satisfied. They stared at each other for a moment, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact. Sherlock could see the monitor in his peripheral and a large spike in the corner of his eye caused him to lose. He looked at the retention time quickly before turning back to Molly.

"Well, it looks like I owe you dinner Miss Hooper." He stepped closer and bend down near her ear, "Come by Baker Street tonight. Nine o'clock to collect."

She blushed and ducked her head at his closeness and willingness to actually follow through with the bet. In her embarrassment her eyes focused on the closest thing she could find… which appeared to be his pants, probably noticing the new holes caused by acid. Her hand reached out and her fingers trailed over the largest hole, the one on his upper thigh. It was a mere foot from his hip and even through his boxers he could feel the slight pressure of her fingers exploring and tugging at the loose strings. He fought a shiver, not wanting her to realize what she was doing and stop. Her fingers dipped into the hole and gave it a small tug. He was so relaxed and distracted from her actions he couldn't contain his moan when the action caused his mind to fill with multiple scenarios of her tugging at him.

The sound broke her focus and her hand fell down to her side, "I didn't think you would actually live up to your side of the bet." Her voice was soft and filled with embarrassment, along with a hint of shame.

"Of course I am, it is because of you that I won't waste a whole day's work."

Molly shook her head causing her hair to fall in front of her face and obstructing his view. "You would have figured it out eventually, Sherlock. I just speed up the process." Before he could even register what was happening he felt his fingers slide through her silky strands and tuck it back behind her ears.

"That is not true. You are invaluable to me." His thumb stroked her cheek softly. "Thank you, Molly. I look forward to your collection tonight."


End file.
